


home is where you are

by queerly_yours



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4858154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerly_yours/pseuds/queerly_yours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stop thinking so loud,” Boyd grumbles.</p>
<p>Stiles huffs. “Was not.” But he stops, or tries to at least, and tilts his head back to press a kiss to Boyd’s jaw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	home is where you are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halelujah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halelujah/gifts).



> for keeta, because she’s hella and let’s me blow up her inbox on the regular. originally posted [here](http://queerleighyours.tumblr.com/post/129688281224/for-the-calvaree-because-shes-hella-and-lets-me).

Stiles wakes in slow increments. He’s warm, feels like he’s wrapped up in something. He doesn’t remember falling asleep. Pack meeting, he thinks. Did he fall asleep at a pack meeting? He blinks, tries to pull his arm up to wipe the sleep from his eyes, but it’s caught under a something. No, not something, some _one_.

The day has already melted away into night, but the light of the moon peeking through the windows in the loft is enough for him to make out the arm that has him trapped. It’s Boyd, and he’s not really trapped. Simply being cuddled, which is nice. He wiggles against the solid weight at his back as Boyd tightens his arm around Stiles’ middle.

Stiles lets out a happy sigh and presses his face back into his pillow, which is Boyd’s arm under his head. Boyd grumbles a little at the noise and movement, runs his nose along the back of Stiles’ head.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers, pressing a kiss behind Stiles’ ear. A small, sleepy smile tugs at Stiles’ lips and he shifts so that he faces Boyd, tangling their legs together and snaking his arm up the side of his sweater. He feels so small against Boyd, carefully tucked under his chin, cradled into him, though he’s never treated as such. They protect each other. It’s something that they both agreed to from the beginning.

“Stop thinking so loud,” Boyd grumbles.

Stiles huffs. “Was not.” But he stops, or tries to at least, and tilts his head back to press a kiss to Boyd’s jaw.  

Boyd sighs, nudging Stiles, and leans forward to meet his lips for a chaste kiss. “Are you planning on going back to sleep any time soon?” he asks, resting their foreheads together.

Stiles grins up at him, a little dopey with sleep still, hair a tousled mess, eyes half closed. “Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ with exaggeration. He runs his fingers down Boyd’s side causing him to shiver. Then moves to his chest, skimming over his nipples, while he shifts his body upwards to latch onto Boyd’s neck.

Boyd moans and reaches down, putting his hands into Stiles’ back pockets. He squeezes and Stiles nips at his neck in retaliation.

“You do realize that you’re not at your own place, right?” Peter interrupts, standing at the bottom of the winding staircase with his arms crossed indignantly. “Unless you two are into that kind of thing.”

“Oh my god, Peter. Go away,” Stiles whines, pressing himself closer to Boyd, trying to will away the intrusion.

But Boyd rolls his eyes and sits up, pulling Stiles along with him. “Come on, Stiles. Let’s go home.”

Stiles smiles softly and leans into his side. “You just like saying that.  _Home_.”

Boyd glances over, squinting at him. “Maybe,” he concedes.

“You big softy,” Stiles laughs, poking him in the side.

Peter glares at them, eyes burning bright blue at the edges. “Please, you’re disgusting. Run along now, children.”

Now it’s Stiles turn to roll his eyes at Peter. “Don’t get you panties in a bunch, zombie-wolf. We’re going.”

Boyd huffs out a laugh as they make their way out of the loft, hand in hand. He doesn’t just like  _saying_  home. Home is his happy place, his sanctuary, his quiet from the storm. Home is where Stiles tripped over a box and blacked out so hard that he thought he was fifteen again for a full day. Home is where Stiles held him on the tenth anniversary of his sister’s death, shielding him from the outside world. Home is where he and Stiles are. 

Most of all, home is a place he’d very much like to be right now, and he can tell by the soft look in Stiles’ honey eyes that he agrees.


End file.
